Xiao Chiye had spent the entire day at the drill grounds. Feeling the stench of sweat clinging to him, he didn’t cross to the other side of the table but took a seat there instead. Piles of case files were stacked atop the desk, some sealed with notices from the Ministry of Justice, and they were dated quite a while back.
“You’re looking into old cases,” Xiao Chiye said, resting one hand on the back of his chair while twirling the small bamboo fan Shen Zechuan had left on the desk. “You’ve spent half a month just on the imperial prison files. Why are you also digging through Ministry of Justice cases?”
“During the four years before the late emperor’s ascension, the imperial prison was idle,” Shen Zechuan said, scanning the files. “At that time, Ji Lei had Pan Rugui as a patron, so he wasn’t completely helpless. But the imperial prison left no case records, which proves that many cases still went through the formal tri-ministry review process. Ji Lei was relegated to running errands for the Ministry of Justice.”
“I mean,” Xiao Chiye pressed the bamboo fan lightly against Shen Zechuan’s chin, blocking his view of the files, “why are we digging through old cases?”
“The last time we were here, we discussed the Zhongbo military defeat,” Shen Zechuan put down his brush. “I mentioned the phrase ‘ally distant states while attacking nearby ones.’ Do you remember?”
Xiao Chiye withdrew the fan and walked around the desk toward the inner bookshelf. After a moment, he returned holding a rolled-up map. Shen Zechuan pushed the case files aside, and Xiao Chiye spread the map across the desk—it was a highly detailed military terrain chart.
“My prized possession,” Xiao Chiye said, circling the Zhongbo Six Provinces with the fan. “Of course, I remember. You mean someone used frontier cavalry to seize the six provinces near Qudu—that’s the ‘attack nearby.’ Then the Hua family declined, and the Empress Dowager forced Hua San to marry Qi Dong—that’s the ‘ally distant.’ Together, it isolates the north: nothing nearby to rely on, nothing distant to support.”
“But such a plan takes too long, with countless variables. Whoever wants to ensure no misstep must be in a position overseeing the entire region,” Shen Zechuan rose, tracing a line from Zhongbo to Qudu. “The late emperor’s eight-year reign is too short to orchestrate the Zhongbo defeat alone. We must look further back—during Emperor Guangcheng’s Yongyi years, many events occurred that affected the larger situation. He had to be present then. I want to use these old cases to find some clues.”
Xiao Chiye studied the map. “Even with these files, it’s hard to see the whole picture. You need someone who participated—or at least knows the details.”
“I have no such person,” Shen Zechuan replied.
Xiao Chiye returned the fan. “I might have a recommendation… but what will you bribe me with?”
Shen Zechuan smiled faintly, holding the other end of the fan without taking it. “Let me guess—the person you want to recommend is Yao Wenyu?”
“He’s a Yao family member. He knows far more about that period than most, later apprenticed under Hai Liangyi, who worked in both the Justice and Personnel Ministries. He knows the details,” Xiao Chiye said, bringing the fan closer. “So? Not keen to meet him?”
“I’ve heard of him,” Shen Zechuan said. “Whether he’s truly capable or just a showman, we’ll see. I do wish to meet him. But when will he arrive? I have duties for the next half month.”
“Others line up with their name cards, but who’s as prestigious as you, Master Shen?” Xiao Chiye laughed.
“He’s like a celestial being dropped from the sky. Even if I tried to curry favor, it’d be useless.” Shen Zechuan spoke honestly. He had heard of Yao Wenyu, but compared to Xue Xiuzhuo, he preferred the latter—mundane work, messy tasks, all too human. A godlike figure like Yao Wenyu would be praised endlessly, but Shen Zechuan had no intent to enlist him.
Scholars are useless; officials are no freer than courtesans—praise and flattery, smiles taken as blows, every act a lesson. Hai Liangyi never summoned Yao Wenyu, and from his temperament, it was clear he preferred freedom. Who would force a celestial into the mud? Let him remain carefree.
Xiao Chiye, however, thought differently but didn’t rush to explain. “I’m just a casual acquaintance. His friends span the empire; few can sit and converse with him. His polite distance mirrors your own. A brief meeting leaves an impression; later, if needed, you can build rapport.”
Shen Zechuan, hearing this, stopped resisting. Xiao Chiye wouldn’t recommend someone without reason. Shen Zechuan decided to adjust Qiao Tianya’s schedule to meet him.
Xiao Chiye had spoken on entry, still sweaty from riding. Shen Zechuan noted the damp at his temples and said, “Go bathe and change. Dinner will be ready soon; minor matters can wait.”
“Wise,” Xiao Chiye said, kicking the chair aside, suddenly bending to lift Shen Zechuan onto his shoulders. “Words are half the care; this saves time, effort, and water.”
Shen Zechuan tried to straighten his tilted brush, but Xiao Chiye strode forward. The hot water was ready, and the curtain pulled for nearly two hours; the firewood never rested. Chen Yang, the most sensible, instructed the kitchen to prepare ingredients for dinner in advance.
Shen Zechuan realized one truth: no one could go hungry at Xiao Chiye’s expense. His energy and diligence far outstripped Shen Zechuan’s skill.
“I know all,” Xiao Chiye said, rubbing Shen Zechuan’s right earlobe. “Xi Hongxuan matters aren’t urgent tonight. You’ve been asking Ge Qingqing to investigate—finding Master Ji Gang? I’ll inform you of any anomalies at the Forbidden Army gates.”
Shen Zechuan flushed under the touch, leaning on Xiao Chiye’s arm, closing his eyes to steady his breath, his pale neck exposed, chest rising and falling.
“Tonight, nothing else,” Xiao Chiye clipped an earring onto him. “Second Young Master talks of nothing else.”
Shen Zechuan leaned forward along the edge, inseparable from Xiao Chiye. Waves of sensation surged, trembling through him, caught by Xiao Chiye. In this full-bodied pleasure, even chaos felt harmonious. They never spoke words of love in these moments, only let kisses convey their passion. The more intense, the more they kissed. Sweat mingled with lips; desire and warmth intertwined.
Eventually sated, Xiao Chiye brushed wet hair from Shen Zechuan’s face, massaging his damp cheeks. Shen Zechuan tilted his neck, clutching him, wetting his lips in return. Xiao Chiye paused only to kiss him again, lifting him, letting Shen Zechuan explore freely.